


That Son, is a Stiles

by CaladeanFey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Comedy, Eventual Romance, Fae & Fairies, Family, Fire, Funny, Magic, Multi, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:03:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaladeanFey/pseuds/CaladeanFey
Summary: Brief Dialogue from Chapter 2“Come on Scott this is totally unfair.” Stiles whines to his best friend/brother Scott.“No, it’s not. You were the one that set the Miller boy’s pants on fire.” Scott scolds Stiles from his seat at the wooden dinner table where he is dipping a hunk of old bread into a steaming bowl of soup.“He deserved it. The little annoyance was destroying the fairy rings by the forest edge.” Stiles defends himself poking at his empty dinner plate his stomach growling in hunger.“Besides I put him out before he could actually get hurt.” Stiles whines.“His mother saw the whole thing and started screaming Stiles.” Scott growls swallowing his mouthful of food.“Well it’s her fault too for not teaching her kid to respect things like that.” Stiles replies matter of factly.“He wet his pants.” Scott points out.“A bonus.” Stiles grins.“She complained to your dad.”“The true crime.” Stiles moans.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is dialogue taken from Chapter 2 which I will put up in March. This first chapter is a prologue and Derek Hale's point of view. Also the time line for this is not the 21st century, maybe the 1700-1800's.

The moon rises full and proud over the trees on the Preserve. In the clearing over thirty figures stand already shifted into their partial were shape agitated by the moons light and the coming event.

“Its almost midnight, are they ready?” One partially shifted man asks his dark hair rustling in the wind.

“I’d say they’re more than ready. After all this mating run happens only every three years and this time its in the Hale lands.” A woman replies running clawed fingers through her blonde hair.

“Indeed, I hear Talia’s oldest daughter and son are participating this year.”

“Is Derek Hale even of age yet?”

“He turned sixteen one month ago, he is an adult by werewolf law and has a right to take part in the mating run.” The dark-haired man growls decisively.

“He will be the youngest to participate among the four packs then.” The blonde woman comments.

Werewolves are one of the few supernatural species that mate for life. However, they have territories and packs and often stay to their own territories which makes finding a mate difficult. Many packs had learned that to much mixed blood led to less control of their beast sides so for centuries the packs in all territories would take turns traveling to different territories and allowing all unmated werewolves to participate in mating runs.

Mating runs took place every three years in a different territory. The pack leaders would collaborate and decide which packs went to which territory that way no territory was ever overrun with werewolves. In addition, the packs alternate every three years. This year the Hale, Gide, Tonis, and Shia packs are running together. The previous run it had been the Hale, Parlin, Crow, and Morris pack.

The changing of packs meeting insured the werewolves were exposed to as many other werewolves to find their mate. Some werewolves married within the pack not needing the mating run and a few even married humans that would then take the bite or remain human if they so choose.

Those that participated in the mating runs and found their mates through them would then have to decide which pack they would return to together. The transition could be difficult and possibly lead to a loss of power within a pack which is another reason why the mating run happens only every three years instead of every year to keep the power in balance and so no pack would be utterly devastated by a steady loss of numbers.

A low wolf howl sounds at the edge of the trees and a group of about twenty werewolves emerge all stripped down to the barest covering of cloth. These are the pack members participating in the mating run. Most werewolves discovered their mates through scent, and during a long chasing run a werewolf’s scent was at its strongest. Thus, the mating run. The mating run was also done during a full moon because it allowed the instinctual part of the wolf as close to the surface as possible to pick a mate based entirely on instinct.

Those that found their mates during the mating run tended to have superior offspring and better marriages than those that found their mates in other ways. According to myth it was because the mating runs acted as a right of claiming one’s mate and sated the werewolf’s inner beast. The mates would chase each other through the woods teasing, toying, taunting, wooing, and rebelling until one was caught and then claimed through the act of physical mating that would last until morning.

A regal woman with long hair approaches the gathered wolves for mating and a hush fills the clearing. Her voice rang out clear and commanding as her eyes flash red.

“I welcome our brethren to the Hale lands and those that hope to claim a mate in this run I give you my blessing as Alpha of these lands.” Talia raises her hands and claps loudly the sound echoing in the clearing.

“RUN!” She commands.

Immediately all the assembled runners shift into their full wolf shapes and bound into the woods. Everyone else joins together and let out howls towards the moon singing their encouragement.

**Derek Hale**

Derek Hale Derek Hale is a lanky teenage boy who just turned sixteen and is experiencing hair growth and the natural gaining of muscles for his gender made more prominent by his werewolf blood. Even though he had just turned sixteen and had the right his mother was and still is against his joining of the mating run. She told him he is to young and that it would be best for him to wait for the next run. His father and older sister Laura had been of the same mind as her. Laura herself had been sixteen at the time of the last mating run but had decided against participating.

However, Derek had ignored them all and claimed his right to join per werewolf law. His mother had not spoken to him for a week for his disobedience. Derek couldn’t explain why he was so desperate to join the mating run. He’d never had a romantic relationship before, there had been Page but they decided being friends was all they wanted. Derek was a teenager so his hormones were running wild but he didn’t find anyone he met particularly beguiling or attractive in the sense that he wanted to bed them.

But for some unexplainable reason his inner wolf howled with triumph at the thought of the mating run, the closer it came to the promised moon the louder and more excited it got. Derek could only conclude that for some reason his instincts demanded he comply because he would find his mate during this mating run. Derek’s stomach twisted itself in knots as the moon rose higher in the sky almost at the point where it was time. He is in the woods next to the clearing were all the rest of the packs not participating in the actual run are gathered. Him and about 20 other werewolves are participating. An hour ago, they’d stripped from their normal clothing to the barest of clothing which meant short breeches for the men and breeches with breast bands for the women and nothing else.

As werewolves they did not feel shame or try to hide their bodies like most humans, werewolves are also really big on touch and scent marking. For this event though all werewolves that are to be in the mating run keep a distance of about ten feet from each other and even more so from other packs that way everything would happen in the natural course of the mating run. Derek is aware he was the youngest participant this year, but he isn’t bothered by it. The oldest participant is a man from the Gide pack in his early fifties. Derek heard that he had been in every run since the age of 18 and had not yet found a mate. Derek’s sister Laura smiles encouragingly at him from several yards away stripped down as he was.

Derek doesn’t know how he will feel if his beloved sister finds a mate during this run, but as the oldest child of the alpha and the most likely to be the next alpha if she does find a mate they will stay in the Hale pack. Derek will be free to choose the pack he goes with, but Derek knows for sure that he will stay with his family no matter what his possible mate wants. It was very rare but sometimes a mated pair exists in separate packs meeting only as much as possible and any offspring born would be raised in the mother’s pack.

His father slips through the trees and gives a low howl in signal that they are all to come gather at the edge of the clearing so that the chase can begin.

They all move swiftly past the trees lining up along the tree edge of the largest part of the preserve. On this night all access to the preserve had been forbidden to the nearby villagers. There is even a centuries old deal in place with the fey that keeps them out of the werewolf’s way during the mating run. All traveling merchants and rouge werewolves had been threatened to steer clear of the preserve as well. During the mating run the werewolf blood gets more excited and bloodthirsty than usual. There had been victims in the past and to prevent such tragedy again humans are simply banned from the entire preserve and forest from dawn till dawn of the following day.

Talia, Derek’s mother steps forward from the other werewolves her powerful majestic form standing out amongst even the other alphas. Her eyes glow blood red in the dark as she speaks.

“I welcome our brethren to the Hale lands and those that hope to claim a mate in this run I give you my blessing as Alpha of these lands.” She then raises her hands and claps them together as the signal for them to shift before her voice booms out across the grass.

“RUN!”

They take off at dead sprints as the sound of dozens of howls encourage them from behind. Derek hears blood rush in his ears as his four paws pound against the forest floor. Having shifted he leaps with ease through the close trees. He feels a howl break from his throat in glee as his inner wolf all but purrs in happiness. Derek runs with no aim at first letting his instincts completely take over. He hears other howls occasionally from different directions but doesn’t go towards them. The scent of the forest and other wolves fill his nose but none satisfy his wolf, which growls in rejection as each unfamiliar wolf scent crosses his nose.

Hours pass and he comes to a stream taking a drink to quench his thirst and he scents his surroundings. He can smell two other wolves nearby and a pair of wolves that smell thick with lust. Someone had found their mate. His inner wolf growls in jealousy. Derek continues traveling through the preserve getting closer to the area were the Nemeton rests. He’s scented only one other wolf this far out in the preserve, but nothing else. As he gets closer, he suddenly feels his nose tingle and his inner wolf rears its head in interest. Derek opens his mouth and breathes deeply.

The most arousing scent rolls over his tongue and tingles sweetly in his nose like the scent of a fresh rainstorm and apples. His vision turns red and he growls in triumph. He’s found his mate! Derek sprints through the trees not caring as thorns scratch at his coat and branches try to hinder his path. Inside his head the wolf howls mate, mate, mate, mate, mate, mate, over and over. Derek is so busy focusing on his mates’ scent that he fails to realize there is another scent with it. When he all but soars through the trees he lands by a small spring running near the edge of the preserve that ends in a few more hundred yards. There across the spring is a fully black and brown clad person running for the Preserve’s end.

Tucked against the persons chest is a large bundle wrapped in the same brown and black colored clothes little pale white hands grasping tightly into the cloth of the person running’s shoulders. Tufts of dark brown hair stick out.

Derek snarls in outrage as the scent of someone not his mate coats his nose. The scent is far more masculine and closer to that of pines. It offends Derek’s nose as it overlaps his mates own sweet scent. Derek is about to howl threateningly at the fleeing figure when the child lets out a distressed sobbing cry.

“Daddy!”

Derek snaps his teeth shut his ears perking forward. His mate is upset! Hands clinging tighter the child whimpers and Derek immediately heels. This child is his mate, far too young to claim in a romantic way, he must protect it. The figure stumbles to the ground crashing hard to his knees and the little boy lets out a scared wail. Its then that Derek smells blood. The father of his mate is injured. Derek immediately jumps over the spring intending to help. The fallen man has his hood up but he peers back at Derek his breath catching. Immediately he forces himself up and holds the child tighter continuing to run even as a dark stain slowly spreads across his knees. As he gets up his coat slides revealing long scratches underneath still seeping blood.

Werewolf scratches. Derek howls in anger. Someone had tried to attack his mate. Even as he howls there is another howl and suddenly from the trees further down the spring another wolf appears. There is blood splattered in his dark gray coat and patches of fur missing. His muzzle is slightly crooked and it even looks like some of its fur and left ear are singed black. Blood coats his left front paw. Blood that is not the wolfs. The man doesn’t glance back just runs harder. Vanishing amongst the trees.

The new wolf gives chase and Derek snarls at it. The other wolf growls in warning attempting to pass Derek in pursuit of its prey. Derek raises his hackles and growls low in challenge. The other wolfs eyes flash gold and then it springs forward jaw snapping at Derek. Derek dodges and rakes his claws down the wolf’s side blood spilling from the wound. The other wolf howls in pain and anger and tackles Derek to the ground. They tear, claw and bite at each other drawing blood and ripping fur out in clumps. Derek rips off half the other wolfs ear who in retaliation bites deep into Derek’s shoulder.

The only thing running through Derek is pure furry and the need to protect his mate from this enemy. Derek rips his shoulder free from the other wolfs teeth and quickly snaps his fangs around its throat forcing him to the ground and pinning him. The wolf struggles trying to get free, claws scrabbling at Derek’s belly. Derek clamps down tighter blood filling his mouth and growls aggressively around the red coated fur in his throat his message clear.

_Submit or Die_.

The wolf stills then takes all four paws and sinks his claws into Derek’s sides. Derek slams his teeth shut cutting through the other wolf’s main artery killing him. The body stills beneath him and Derek stumbles away his body burning with pain.

Suddenly there is a loud snarl in the distance. No! Another wolf has found his mate while he was fighting. He could still smell his mate and they hadn’t made it out of the preserve yet. Derek starts running even as a child’s scream fills his ears and his body goes cold in dread. Suddenly there is a loud cracking sound and Derek’s head is filled with the most awful noise on earth. He drops to the ground his ears bleeding even as everything swims before his eyes. Before he passes out, he hears an ancient sounding voice whisper in his head.

**_The law is broken, blood must be paid, and one now shall become two._**


	2. Introductions are in Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright it is Stiles time! Also this is a much longer chapter.

_**12 YEARS LATER**_

**Stiles**

“Come on Scott this is totally unfair.” Stiles whines to his best friend/brother Scott.

“No, it’s not. You were the one that set the Miller boy’s pants on fire.” Scott scolds Stiles from his seat at the wooden dinner table where he is dipping a hunk of old bread into a steaming bowl of soup.

“He deserved it. The little annoyance was destroying the fairy rings by the forest edge.” Stiles defends himself poking at his empty dinner plate his stomach growling in hunger.

Stiles is a young man of 20 years with very short dark brown hair and large pretty brown eyes that have flecks of green. His pale face is doted with large moles and soft pink lips. Stiles often wore blue and red cloaks over muddy brown cotton shirts and black pants with well worn black leather boots that always had specs of dirt from his frequent tromps through the forest. Decorating both pale wrists are dozens of bracelets in various colors made from thread and braided together with small beads, crystals, and glass shards in a rainbow of different hues.

“Besides I put him out before he could _actually_ get hurt.” Stiles whines.

Scott sitting across from him shakes his head before biting into his bread again. Like Stiles he is wearing darker colored clothing but his brown hair is almost shoulder length and curling at the ends. His eyes are bigger and browner than Stiles with a sweet puppy dog look. Four bracelets similar to Stiles hug his left wrist. Scott’s eyes flash yellow in the candle light.

“His mother saw the whole thing and started screaming Stiles.” Scott growls swallowing his mouthful of food.

“Well it’s her fault too for not teaching her kid to respect things like that.” Stiles replies matter of factly.

“He wet his pants.” Scott points out.

“A bonus.” Stiles grins.

“She complained to your dad.”

“The true crime.” Stiles moans.

“Yeah, you’re not sorry or repentful _at all_ , which is why you don’t get dinner. Deal with it.” Scott huffs going back to his soup.

“So cruel.” Stiles accuses laying his head down on the table in defeat.

“I dare you to say that when your dad gets back from his night watch in the morning.” Scott shoots back with a grin.

“I’m eccentric Scott, not crazy.” Stiles muffled voice says from the tabletop.

“Anyway, are you ready for our trip to the Hale pack tomorrow?” Scott asks finishing off his soup.

“I don’t think anyone could be prepared to go waltzing into the biggest pack of werewolves in over two hundred miles and say, _‘Hey my name is Stiles and this cute little wolf beside me is Scott and we want to temporarily join your pack because we are both freaks of nature. Plus, I can’t stand my brother howling lonesomely at the moon every night anymore so for the love of God give him some friends and pack cuddles.’_ Yeah not seeing that one going over well.” Stiles says straight faced.

“Freaks of nature? Really Stiles.”

“Uh hello, Spark and True Alpha, ergo freaks.” Stiles says pointing at himself then Scott in emphasis.

“Okay, none of them will know I’m a True Alpha because Deaton is introducing me as a Beta.” Scott assures.

“Wrong, Alpha Talia Hale and her heir Laura will know that you’re a True Alpha, everyone else gets fed the lie. And the only thing keeping them from finding out is that there bracelet on your wrist Scott.” Stiles says looking to the red band with yellow crystals on Scott’s wrist.

The bracelet had been made by Stiles and imbued with a strong but simple illusion. Its sole purpose is to change the appearance of Scott’s natural red glowing eyes to yellow so that no one can tell he is an alpha.

Scott had not been born an alpha nor had he defeated another alpha which is how alphas without packs are usually made. When Scott was fifteen he’d been bitten by a rouge alpha seeking to create his own pack. The rouge alpha had actually been killed by another wolf from the Hale pack when he tried to turn some of the local villagers against their will, like Scott. Scott had undergone the Bite and become a Beta; however, he didn’t want to join a pack and leave his mother by herself. At that time Scott and Stiles had just been friends with Stiles being known as the willful secluded dangerous magic child of one of the most capable night watch men John Stilinski.

Scott was the son of Melissa McCall the village midwife and doctor who’d fled from a bitter abusive marriage to the town of Beacon Hills when her son was four years old. Scott and Stiles met at the age of eight just two weeks after Stiles had arrived with his father in Beacon Hills. Stiles mother died earlier that same year of an unknown illness. Scott being the sweetheart he was befriended the shy awkward Stiles and they were thick as thieves from then on.

Stiles and his father John actually lived in a small cottage near the edge of the Beacon Hills forest which at one point gave way to what is known as the Preserve. The Preserve is a heavily wooded territory inhabited by the Hale werewolf pack. The Preserve and Beacon Hills Forest had both actually been Hale territory until 12 years ago when the event known as The Rift happened between the Fey creatures and the werewolves that led to the two being divided. Now werewolves are not welcome in the Beacon Hills Forest and the Fey vice versa to the Preserve.

John Stilinski was well liked by the town of Beacon Hills, but his willful magic spewing child Stiles was not, so they had remained in the cottage by the forest since their arrival to Beacon Hills. And for the past 12 years Scott had remained Stiles only friend and the only one besides his mother Melissa and the local Emissary Deaton that came anywhere near the cottage. There are still people that pointed and insulted Stiles every time they see him even though he had been in full control of his powers for years now.

Scott had officially become Stiles brother three years ago when Melissa and John married in the springtime. With Scott becoming a werewolf and the many ups and downs that came with it he had been staying more and more outside the village with Stiles and John than in it with Melissa. Naturally Melissa sought out John every day about her son’s health when she couldn’t come see him herself and the two had grown very close.

Melissa had wanted to move in with them but her job as midwife and doctor prevented that and so she still lived in the epicenter o f Beacon Hills. One of the reasons Scott and Stiles had decided to go with the hair brained scheme of temporarily joining the Hale pack was because it would mean them living on the Hale Preserve and then John could move in with Melissa and finally have the honeymoon life they deserved. That and Scott was really in need of a pack since his awakening as a True Alpha six months ago. The lack of a pack was starting to drain him physically as well as mentally which was of great concern to his family.

Upon consulting Deaton, they all agreed Scott wasn’t ready to make his own werewolf pack and should first learn about pack life with experience. Stiles was actually already a member of Scott’s pack and had been since the beginning, but as he is human it isn’t the same. Now that Melissa and John are married Scott doesn’t have to worry about his mom’s protection and Stiles also doesn’t have to worry about his dad being lonely.

So, Deaton suggested they both join an already established pack. Scott would likely be accepted right away as a “Beta” and since Stiles had been training under Deaton for over a decade to control his powers, he could easily become a pack emissary and not have to worry about getting the Bite to join. Deaton himself was the Hale packs “unofficial” emissary, which meant the Hale pack has an open Emissary position.

The only problem is Scott being an alpha and Stiles already being his pack. As brothers their super close relationship and skin ship could be explained, but as for Scott’s red eyes, well that took some magical assistance. Deaton had already gotten permission for them to visit the Hale pack from Talia, and Deaton had also been extremely clear that Stiles and Scott came as a set, no exceptions. Now they just had to pass the alpha’s inspection and explain their situation.

If all went well Stiles and Scott would be packing their bags tomorrow afternoon and be official residents of the Preserve by nightfall. If it didn’t well Scott needed a pack and Beacon Hills wasn’t the only village out there with misfits needing a place to belong. Stiles really hopes it won’t come to that since they both don’t want to be that far away from their parents. Growing up with single parents Scott and Stiles are both overprotective, Stiles more so than Scott.

After cleaning up Stiles and Scott both finish packing up their things which they wouldn’t take with them for the initial meeting, but it would save time in the long run, plus being nervous they both needed something to do. Stiles has a lot more to pack than Scott. He has satchels of smooth stones, beads, different colored thread, glass shards, dozens of ground powders and dried bundles of herbs, ink, and paper, 3 worn books with leather bound covers, and then his clothes and other trinkets, and necessities.

It is well into the night by the time Stiles is done and his eyes are sagging. Scott had already gone to bed after offering to help Stiles finish sorting, but a lot of Stiles magical objects couldn’t be directly touched by anyone but him, so he kindly refused. Finally finished and staring at two huge bulging mud brown sacks Stiles deems his packing finished and strips down for bed.

His nerves have quieted a little but not enough so he starts reciting herbs and their properties in his mind followed by all the villagers he dislikes and what magical prank he’d like to pull on them. An hour or so later Stiles finally drifts to sleep.

*****************************************

Stiles’ eyes pop open to the sound of soft bells tinkling. The ward around the perimeter had gone off, meaning John Stilinski has come home. Stiles throws off his bed covers and stretches hearing several pops in his back. In the next room he hears Scott begin to stir as well his werewolf hearing kicking in as John Stilinski opens the cottage front door with a cranky creak.

Stiles gets dressed in his usual soft brown shirt and long black pants. Next he slips on socks and his dirty boots. Finished lacing up his boots he takes out a small glass vial half full of amber liquid. Undoing the cork, he places a finger over the opening and pours out a single drop which he then rubs into the back of his neck followed by another drop to his wrist. He recorks the bottle and places it in his pocket.

The morning air is a bit nippy so he grabs his trademark red cloak and throws it on. John never got why he wore such a glaring color when no one else did, but Stiles likes how it annoys all the villagers every time they see him. Plus, red is an awesome color thank you. Granted sometimes he looks like a giant red target too, but well he put the people that tried to hurt him in their place quick enough.

Upon entering the kitchen sitting area he is just in time to see John pouring himself the leftover soup that had been left in the pot over the smoldering firepit for him. Scott is unwrapping some fruits from a cloth that had been hung from the rafters so the bugs and vermin couldn’t get to them.

Silently he hands Stiles an apple and offers one to John before taking two for himself. They sit and eat in contemplative silence for a bit Stiles rubbing at his sleep crusted eyes. John Stilinski looks wide awake even after having spent the last eight hours on watch, though his shoulders are hunched a bit in tiredness. John being the caring stubborn parent that he is decided against all opposition to accompany his sons to the Hale pack introduction meeting in just a couple hours.

Melissa wanted to go too, but one of the village women is pregnant with what everyone is pretty sure is twins and is due literally any second thus Melissa has to stay by her side in case of complications. Deaton will accompany them of course since you have to have permission to be on Hale lands but that is it. The villager’s and local werewolf pack don’t associate much. The village is under the Hale pack protection and they trade goods and services with each other, but the Hale pack keeps pretty well to itself out on the Preserve and the villager’s respect their privacy.

Stiles and Deaton are in similar positions. Deaton is the local vet as well as Emissary so he has a golden ticket into both worlds, but even still he lives out by himself on the edge of the village equally distant between the two. Stiles and his dad of course live further from the Preserve than anyone else. They literally live on the border of the Beacon Hills Forest on the farthest side from the Preserve.

At one time they considered moving closer to the town, but the Fey in Beacon Hills Forest had been greatly against it, so much that they promised John Stilinski, Scott, and Melissa protection to and from Beacon Hills back to his cottage for as long as they lived in the cottage. The protection of the Fey is not to be taken lightly, plus Stiles himself was happier to remain in their care than be closer to the village people who didn’t want anything to do with him.

It was a good hour walk to Beacon Hills, and Stiles had never been closer than Deaton’s place to the Preserve. Stiles had also never encountered a werewolf in Beacon Hills or around it. And of course, there were never any werewolves in the Beacon Hills Forest where Stiles spent a majority of his time. Stiles was allowed in the village one day a week and he had to have approval to go the day before so it wasn’t a surprise to the villagers.

When Stiles was a child his magic had not been under very good control when he awakened it, so he accidentally set things on fire, caused mild confusion, and mass panic a few times. The village not able to handle that bizarre of circumstances despite the resident werewolves, set down rules for Stiles continued stay in the Beacon Hills area.

Number one being Stiles absence in the village for 6/7 days of the week. Stiles was not allowed in the village during any festivals, or harvests. Stiles was to trade and buy from a specific merchant and no other. Stiles must live outside the village. John Stilinski had refused the deal and wanted to leave to another village, but Stiles himself refused to leave his newfound forest friends and Scott. It was then that Deaton stepped forward and offered to take Stiles under his wing. John very unwillingly gave into the villager’s terms, but under the condition that Stiles be given the same protection and rights as the other villagers.

And also, that no one be allowed near the cottage premises unless invited. The village agreed and life went on from there. Stiles didn’t blame the village for their treatment of him… much. He wasn’t like everyone else and they feared what he could do. At first it had hurt. The insults, the bullying, the outright rejection of his very existence by many villager’s, and the occasional stoning and vegetable throwing.

But after learning to control his powers more and learning better social cues and communication he made due just fine. Plus, as far as he was concerned, he’d already made friends with the best thing in the whole damn village anyway.

Stiles wouldn’t lie if anyone asked if he was excited to become part of a pack with Scott. All he has is his dad, Melissa, Scott and the fey, while it had been fine for the last many years, Stiles still yearns for more. He wants to know what it’s like to walk into a group of people and not be shunned, turned away, or hated upon sight. For once he wants his personality to be the thing to drive people away not just the sight of him.

Stiles finishes his apple and reaches for a hunk of bread his stomach hungry from the lack of food last night as “punishment” for his misdeeds.

“Stiles you want to tell me why Mrs. Miller came shouting at me this morning about my fire spewing hell spawn?” John asks calmly taking a bite of his own apple.

Stiles cringes. Yeah whenever he did anything “wrong” the villagers always went complaining to his dad. Some of them got really colorful in their descriptions of him too. He personally wanted to adopt Red Cloaked Calamity as a nickname.

“Her son ruined two fairy rings by the forest side, so I lit his britches on fire to scare him, he was _not hurt_ , just frightened.” Stiles says confidently.

“Will _they_ be okay with that?” John asks a frown on his face.

“Yeah, Tipin says Gart laughed so hard he fell out of a tree when he saw it so they won’t punish the boy anymore than that.” Stiles assures.

The Fey are very vengeful creatures, considering the boy had destroyed two fairy rings that Gart had spent all night making the sprite probably would have cursed the boy and his bloodline or made him get into an accident that could maim him for life.

Stiles could mediate between the Fey and humans in order to keep the peace but it often put him as the punisher to the humans for their crimes against the Fey. On the bright side the Fey were usually satisfied if Stiles greatly scared, humiliated, or both to the offenders. On the downside the villager’s opinion of him worsened and many thought him even crueler than the Fey.

Stiles sometimes envisioned the look on their faces if they ever found out he was the main reason the village never suffered plagues, floods, earthquakes, kidnappings, drought, poor crops, changelings, and other “natural” large calamities. The Fey still cursed some of the villagers or pulled pranks on them but Stiles would always make sure they were deserved. If the crime fit the deed he allowed it. If he thought the punishment was to harsh or in some cases to light he intervened.

“Good, the boy is a brat but he’ll learn from this. I also informed his mother she had better keep him away from the forest for a month or so and make sure he doesn’t do it again or it will be more than a hot bottom he gets.” John assures his son.

“Thanks dad.” Stiles replies grinning as he eats his bread.

That would be the other thing to change when he and Scott joined the Hale pack, Stiles wouldn’t be able to keep the villagers out of trouble like that anymore. He’d tried striking a deal with the Fey but the price to pay was more than he could agree to, and frankly the life of his first offspring isn’t worth the villagers’ leniency and never would be no matter how bad they fucked up with the Fey.

One thing would remain though and that was the Fey’s continued protection and care towards his father and Melissa. The price for that had been easy enough to pay. They finish eating and then don their cloaks to fight off the morning chill. Scott’s cloak is a dark brown, while John’s is a mossy green. Stiles own red cloak stands out starkly as they begin the long trek to Deaton’s. Going straight from the cottage to Deaton’s takes less time than going to the village because of a short cut in the form of a bridge made by trolls, that crosses a very deep gorge that stretches for miles.

They walk quickly along the small worn path made by Stiles’s and John’s frequent visits to Deaton’s over the years whacking away at a few bushes that have overgrown onto the trail. The trail ends at the side of the deep gorge and there crossing over it, is a worn-down bridge of gray stone, old brown vines for railings, and troll spit. Troll spit is a wonderous thing, it sticks better and faster than any man-made glue and is odorless while being a translucent clear color. At first glance it looks old and decrepit, but if you look closer, you’d notice not a single stone on the bridge is missing and its supports are as strong as the day it was created.

Stiles takes three copper coins from the worn brown pouch at his side and holds them over a small jutting oval cleft in the stone work of the bridges left side that dips down into a bowl shape. Stiles lets each coin hit the basin one by one, their clinking echoing in the air.

_“You may pass.”_ A low voice whispers from under the bridge.

“Thank you Gertrude.” Stiles says to the female troll hiding under the bridge out of sight.

The bridge is watched over by a set of troll twins known as Gertrude and Marken. Gertrude watches the bridge during the day while Marken takes charge of it at night. The only time trolls are seen out from under their bridges are when someone doesn’t pay the toll for crossing. Those that don’t pay the toll and cross the bridge without permission are pranked by the troll at night.

The human superstition of trolls lurking under bridges isn’t completely false. Trolls only lurk under bridges they themselves built, because that is how they earn their money since they are by nature an incredibly shy race. The toll for crossing the bridge is always one coin per person, it doesn’t matter the denomination of the coin just so long as it is one coin.

Stiles has met both trolls before, but they still don’t like meeting him face to face if they can help it. Gertrude in the past had told Stiles that what she and Marken usually do to the people who don’t pay the toll is spit in their shoes or beds so that the offender ends up glued into their shoes or to their bed covers in the morning. Normal glue will wear out or weaken with the application of water, troll glue however will hold forever unless coated in a concoction of troll spit, honey, and powdered sunflower seeds.

The three of them walk quickly over the bridge its sturdy frame not even creaking under their weight. After that its more bushes and a narrow dirt trail accompanied by the morning bird song. After a ways more the goat trail gets more crowded with trees and then leads out to a clearing where a cottage similar to the one where they themselves live lies, only it has two stories and a large stable were Deaton can watch over the village animals brought to him for care. Deaton is already waiting for them leaning against his well, a walking stick by his side.

Deaton’s dark skin stands out in the pale blue and gray clothes he wears. Tribal tattoos decorate his exposed arms and two pouches are attached to his belt along with a set of leather gloves and a dagger. A gold amulet hangs around his neck and his boots which were once black are permanently stained brown from the muck of his work and treks to and from town.

Stiles waves a greeting and Deaton sees them, grabbing his walking stick he makes his way over and falls into stride beside them as they begin moving towards the Preserve.

“Mr. Stilinski, Scott, Stiles, good morning. I trust you prepared your belongings last night?” Deaton inquires in his all-knowing tone of voice.

“Yes, everything is ready.” Scott replies.

“Good, now we just have to make sure you both make good impressions on Talia Hale.” Deaton replies giving a stern look to Stiles.

“No worries doc, I will simply turn on the Stilinski charm.” Stiles says batting his eyes at Deaton.

“That is what I’m worried will leave a bad impression.” Deaton assures him.

They all laugh and continue the trek. Deaton coaches the boys on what he knows of werewolf etiquette and courtesy. The rules for Scott will be different from those of Stiles since Scot will be pack while Stiles will be emissary to the pack. Stiles can tell that Deaton is worried about them but is doing his best to hide it. A lot is riding on Scott and Stiles being accepted into the Hale pack, some of it even they don’t know about yet.

Soon they arrive at the edge of the preserve. Its similar to the Beacon Hills Forest in that there is a definitive line of clearing that turns into thick tree line. A prominent marker of territory change. Deaton enters first and the rest follow. The woods of the Preserve are quieter than those of the Beacon Hills Forest and the minute Stiles steps inside he feels watched and not entirely in a friendly way like in his beloved Fey filled forest. No this is a hostile “we’ll kill you if you step out of line” watchfulness.

A howl sounds to their right followed by several growls and the pattering of many feet. Deaton halts them as a man steps from between the trees. He is dressed lightly in a thin shirt, trousers, and bare feet. His hair is a dirty blond, long, and shaggy, with a matching neater beard. His eyes flash the gold of a beta.

“Deaton, and his companions, welcome. My name is Krise (Chris-say) and I will be escorting you to Alpha Talia.” Krise speaks his voice a low baritone that Stiles finds soothing.

“Please lead the way.” Deaton says pleasantly.

Krise turns and starts moving through the woods with a natural grace while their party follows him. Stiles glances about taking note of the werewolves shadowing their footsteps. He hears Scott inhale beside him taking in their scents. Scott flashes a few quick hand signs in a code they’d developed as children to help them talk secretly while dealing with the Fey. While Stiles was on really good terms with them in general, they had gotten into some dangerous situations where it became apparent, they needed some sort of secret communication that the Fey couldn’t understand.

Scott had just signaled that they have twelve wolf pursuers and all are betas except one, which is an alpha. The Hale pack has three alphas currently, Talia, her heir Laura, and the beta that became alpha from killing a rouge alpha. Stiles is pretty sure it is the later that is among their chaperone’s.

The wolves walk at a faster pace than most humans and after about thirty minutes or so they arrive at a wide stone pathway that leads into a large area with dozens of houses and a couple barns. The Hale pack is supposed to have about sixty adult werewolves and two dozen or so children. Trees lurk between many of the buildings and there is some kind of square pavilion area with several wells and wash basins spread out in a circle. Stiles can hear a spring nearby as well.

Krise leads them around the gathering of wells where a few people and children are currently washing their cloths. The residents look up at them as they pass nodding in acknowledgement to Krise. Pass what Stiles will refer to as the “square” they slip through several houses and what even appears to be a small smithy and then they are on another path that leads to what can only be described as a mansion sitting surrounded by the woods a bit away from the rest of the werewolf village.

The house is easily three stories tall and has full surrounding balconies on all floors. Creeper vines crawl up its rock and wood sides and a beautiful flower garden sprawls on one side of its sturdy walls flanked by a much bigger vegetable garden. Stiles admires the beautiful wood work and the wolf head carvings in the staircase leading up to the house, as well as the tribal mark carved into the thick mahogany wood door.

Krise stops at the door and knocks twice before opening it and ushering Deaton and the rest of them forward. Stiles follows behind Scott and Deaton his father bringing up the rear. Deaton leads them down a sparsely lit hallway to another door which is open. Stiles takes note of the many doors they pass on the way and the beauty of the house. The Hale’s have been here for centuries and obviously are very wealthy.

Deaton enters the room first and once they are all inside Krise shuts the door behind them. There standing by an unlit grand stone fireplace is a tall breathtakingly beautiful woman with long flowing dark hair that spills down her back and sides like a waterfall. She wears a dress of emerald green with white lace embroidery and silver stitched flowers that falls to the ground. She turns to them as they enter, her eyes flashing blood red to show her alpha status.

Sitting on top of a large wooden desk near the fireplace in simple brown trousers and a light blue blouse with the top few buttons undone is a woman in her late twenties with lighter brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her legs are crossed showing off her tall black boots and long legs. She smiles at them flashing sharp canines and red eyes.

The room is somewhat sparse besides the fireplace, desk, a few plush chairs, some books, and a table or two. On the walls hang metal weapons most of which look worn and old. Stiles stares at a wolf skull hanging beside a set of five strangely curved blades. He fills a slight tingle of magic from the weapons, but none from the skull.

“It is good to see you Deaton.” Talia addresses Deaton who takes her outstretched hand in greeting.

“The same to you Alpha Talia.” Deaton replies firmly returning the hand shake, and then he introduces all of them. “May I present to you John Stilinski, and his sons Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall.”

Talia shakes John’s hand next, then Scott’s. When she takes Scott’s hand her eyes flash and she smiles.

“So you are the werewolf amongst this group.” She says.

“Yes, and thank you for allowing us into your home Alpha Talia.” Scott says smiling charmingly.

Next Talia turns her eyes to Stiles, but doesn’t hold out her hand, instead she inhales deeply. She pauses as if not sure what she does next is acceptable.

“The smell of the Fey is very strong with you young man, so much that I am not sure I will be forgiven should I touch you.” Talia tells him her eyebrows knit in concern.

Stiles is surprised that Talia is so considerate to such a thing, but then again, she seems more intelligent and capable than anyone he has ever met besides his own father.

“The Fey will hold no grudge so long as I permit the touch and I am more than delighted to receive such a kind greeting.” Stiles tells Talia happily.

He can tell she is listening for the lie in his words but finds none. Talia then offers him her hand and he shakes it feeling the strong yet kind grasp of her flesh. Talia then turns their attention to the woman sitting on the desk.

“This gentlemen, is my daughter and heir Laura.” Talia introduces her daughter.

Laura hops off the desk and like Talia shakes all of their hands in greeting. She too sniffs at Stiles before shaking his hand her nose wrinkling slightly at the strong aroma of Fey which Scott told him is similar to the smell of honey and clover.

In truth Stiles wears a specially concocted perfume that repels certain beings, that he was given by the Fey shortly after he met them. They told him he must wear it at all times and was given new batches of it every month since he was a child. Scott said it enhances the smell of the Fey and his magic while completely erasing his own scent.

Stiles did question the Fey on why they made him wear it even after he mastered his powers, but was always told it was for his own good and that if he didn’t wear it he was not allowed back into the forest, so naturally he continued wearing the perfume.

“Its nice to meet you all.” Laura assures them.

Talia moves to stand in front of the desk, Laura moving to her side.

“Now, let’s get down to business. Deaton you want me to take in Scott and Stiles as temporary members of the Hale pack. Correct?” Talia asks them all.

“Yes.” Deaton confirms.

“Tell me Mr. McCall, why do you want to be apart of the Hale pack?” Talia asks Scott her eyes boring into him.

Stiles can tell Scott is nervous but he knows his brother won’t hesitate to answer the truth.

“In all honesty it doesn’t need to be the Hale pack Alpha Talia. (Laura appears to bristle.) In fact, I do not need to _join_ a pack at all.” Scott moves his fingers over the red bracelet with yellow crystals on his wrist and swipes it off shutting his eyes.

Scott slowly opens his eyes again facing Talia and Laura. Stiles can see the surprise cross their faces as Scott’s eyes flash red. He sees red flash in both their eyes in challenge. Laura growls but Talia keeps her calm.

“I see we were not given the full details on the circumstances for your visit.” Talia says her voice a bit tight. “So you are an alpha Mr. McCall.”

“Actually no. (Scott peeks at Stiles for support) When I was fifteen I was a beta, but six months ago I became an alpha. On my own.” Scott finishes.

“I do not understand.” Talia replies.

“I’m a True Alpha, Alpha Talia. I was made a beta and naturally became an alpha without taking the rank from another.” Scott tells her.

“A True Alpha is a bold claim Mr. McCall and one that can’t be taken lightly. Do you have proof of this claim?” Talia demands.

They knew this would be asked, so they’d prepared for it.

Deaton takes over the conversation.

“I was witness to the transformation Alpha Talia. Scott ascended to alpha hood while rescuing me from a fire that involved a mountain ash barrier in the town of Pitkin several days travel from here, where I had gone to meet up with my sister six months ago. I asked Stiles and Scott to tag along with me to broaden their knowledge of the world.” Deaton explains.

“I remember you taking that trip, but you did not report such a thing when you returned.” Talia tells him angrily.

“I am not the Hale pack’s official emissary, and therefore I am not bound to notify you of matters that do not concern the Hale pack. Scott was not a part of the Hale pack nor an Omega so reporting that he is a True Alpha was not required of me.” Deaton tells her his voice stony.

Talia lets out a small growl of anger but quickly stifles it.

“Much as I dislike your claim, it is true.” She concedes.

“I was chained inside a building within a ring of mountain ash where I was being burned to death by some rouge Hunters. Scott managed to find me and tried to break through the mountain ash. At first, he wasn’t successful, but then his eyes started to change from yellow to red as he continued to push against the magic. His eyes turned fully red when he broke through and then carried me to safety. So yes, Scott is a True Alpha and I am witness of it.” Deaton explains.

Talia ponders in thought for a moment before reaching for a silver music box on the desk. She holds it out to Deaton.

“If Mr. McCall is really a True Alpha then he can pass a barrier made of mountain ash while all other alpha’s cannot. Prove it here to me. Laura, you will assist Deaton.” Talia commands.

Deaton accepts the box from Talia and Laura moves to the center of the room. Deaton opens the box and the smell of mountain ash wafts out. Deaton takes a handful and begins spreading a circle of it around Laura. Once it is complete the barrier is raised. Laura raises a hand and thrusts it outward. Her hand sparks and is forced back by the barrier showing it working.

Deaton motions Scott forward. Slowly Scott approaches Laura and then moves his hands up and places them palms down on the barrier. It sparks and Scott pushes forward a growl in his throat. The barrier fights back, but Scott presses forward and slowly his hands begin sinking through the barrier. First the fingers then the palms, when his wrists pass through the barrier breaks and he has to catch himself from falling into Laura.

They all stand in silence for a moment before the clanking sound of a lid being closed breaks the moment. Deaton hands the sealed silver box over to Talia who places it back on the desk.

“I Talia Hale am witness to the proof of Scott McCall being a True Alpha. Now the question remains, why is a True Alpha wanting to be a part of my pack when he is qualified to start his own?” Talia questions.

Scott visibly relaxes, and Stiles wants to go hug his brother but knows he shouldn’t.

“I may be a True Alpha, but I have never been a part of a pack Alpha Talia. When I was made a beta I didn’t join any werewolf pack, because content to remain on my own.”

Laura interrupts him with her own argument, “That isn’t possible. All werewolves desire a pack. Had you really had no pack for so long you would have been driven crazy and become an Omega.”

Stiles takes it upon himself to challenge her argument. “Scott wasn’t apart of any werewolf pack, but he did still have his mother and me.”

Talia, and Laura both turn their attention to Stiles who has to admit he isn’t all that comfortable with it.

“Family alone wouldn’t keep him from becoming an Omega, which means you Mr. Stilinski are Scott’s pack yes?” Talia asks.

“Yes Alpha Talia, I have been Scott’s sole pack member from the day he was turned, however I am human not werewolf.” Stiles replies looking pointedly at Laura. “Now that Scott is an alpha he needs a werewolf pack not just his human pack mate.”

“I see your reasoning and yes, I have no doubt Scott is suffering without a pack now that he is an alpha.” Talia muses.

“Very much so, which is why I and Stiles want to become temporary members of the Hale pack. I have no experience with other werewolves, or pack. I don’t want to make a pack when I can’t be the best alpha I can be.” Scott pleads with her.

“You realize that as a member of the Hale pack you will be under my, another alpha’s, command.” Talia clarifies.

“Yes, I realize, and while I am not entirely content with that, I will concede to your authority over me so long as I am a member of the Hale pack and the Hale packs interests do not cause harm to my loved ones.” Scott replies.

This is where things would be tricky. Scott as a True Alpha is not required to obey Talia as he is a rank above her as a True Alpha, but as part of the Hale pack he would be required to obey her or be banished from the Hale pack and Hale territory.

“Let me think on this for a bit, in the meantime Stiles I believe is your first name, what is it you seek in joining my pack?” Talia turns her questioning gaze onto Stiles.

Stiles takes a deep breath reminding himself not to say anything stupid, embarrassing, or insulting.

“Alpha Talia the reason is that Scott is my beloved brother and I don’t want to part with him. Also, I’m tired of living in a cottage away from everyone else and being restricted because the village people think I’m a monster.” Stiles finishes with a sad smile.

“So I was right in thinking you are the “Red Demon” the villagers have been whispering about for years.” Talia says with a wicked grin.

Stiles feels his face redden.

“We do not associate much with the villagers of Beacon Hills but when we do sometimes, we here snippets of conversation about a horrible creature wearing the stolen face of a human that causes mischief on behalf of the Fey. I have asked the village head about this “Red Demon” before and all he would tell me is that it was a despicable creature that wore the face of a human and forced the village to allow it to live near the Beacon Hills Forest. He also said that on a whim it would start fires, threaten children, spread sickness, mutilate animal carcasses, and beat villagers nearly to death.” Talia says.

Scott lets out a snarl beside Stiles his fangs growing in reflex. John’s eyes narrow in anger, the villagers had always been abusive of Stiles but spreading sickness and animal mutilations was ridiculous.

“Well I’m glad their opinion of me hasn’t lessoned over the years.” Stiles says smiling.

Inside he is already planning how he will punish the village head for spewing such bullshit.

“Deaton was not forthcoming with information either.” Talia comments.

“Stiles enjoys his privacy and I respect him, also as my student his secrets are mine to keep.” Deaton tells them all.

And its true Stiles even at that age begged Deaton to not tell anyone about him and Deaton stuck to his word. And its not like the Fey would ever tell the werewolves or villagers anything.

“Then tell me Stiles what of these rumors are true?” Talia asks a kind smile on her face.

“Well for one I am fully human, I certainly don’t make it my thing to wear human faces, that is just disgusting. I only ever threaten children when they have offended the Fey and I’m trying to lessen their punishment. I have beaten several villagers when they have attempted to harm me first. I do not spread sickness; I’ve never even had a cold before. The fire thing is true, when I was younger, I really did accidently start a few fires, comes with the whole magic thing. And as for the mutilation I’m not sure what fool came up with that pile of –“

“Language Stiles.” John reminds him.

“-poppycock.” Stiles finishes barely saving himself.

“If you’ve been training under Deaton then you are magical and as an Emissary he can negotiate with the Fey better than others, but why does the Fey have such great interest in _you_ a _human_.” Talia wonders pointedly.

“Oh simple, I’m a Spark.” Stiles says pleasantly.

A long silence follows Stiles remark and he starts feeling sweat gather on the back of his neck the longer it stretches. Maybe he should say something to break it?

“ _What_?” Talia’s voice is almost deadly low.

“I’m a Spark, and apparently the Fey really like Sparks since where just overflowing with magical power.” Stiles continues.

“ _Stop_ ,” Talia commands, then she turns furious eyes on Deaton.

“The boy is a _Spark_ and he has been here for how long?” Talia demands from Deaton.

“Since he was a child.” Deaton replies completely calm.

“Deaton if you were my Emissary I would exile you from my pack.” Talia growls.

Stiles doesn’t like the way Talia is placing blame on Deaton.

“I asked Deaton not to tell anyone about me.” Stiles defends him.

Talia turns angry eyes on him and Stiles feels Scott tense by his side.

“The Fey also demanded my silence on the matter Talia.” Deaton says softly.

Talia’s eyes drain of anger instantly replaced with wariness and curiosity.

“You made a deal with them didn’t you?” Talia asks Deaton.

“No.” Deaton replies.

“No?” Talia questions.

“It was not a deal, they offered me life or death, so no it was not a deal but a threat.” Deaton explains.

Talia’s eyebrows go up in surprise. This was unheard of.

“If the Fey took such measures to prevent knowledge of Stiles spreading then I forgive you. Not many in your position would have done different.” Talia concedes.

Talia then turns to Stiles.

“You’ve said you and your brother wish to be temporary members of my pack Mr. Stilinski. How long do you intend for our pack relationship to last?” Talia questions.

Stiles thinks for a minute, Scott needs a pack and he doesn’t want to leave Scott, it is possible for Scott to stay with the Hale pack for life, but he also knows Scott is a leader and will break away from the Hale pack on his own whether he realizes it yet or not. Stiles will publicly assume the role of Hale pack Emissary so long as he and Stiles are members, but when Scott leaves so will he. But what is the length of time Scott needs as a part of a pack to gain the knowledge he needs to successfully create his own.

“I would request that you allow us to be official members of your pack for one year. If Scott feels the Hale pack is the place he belongs I would beg you allow us to stay forever. However, I also hope we will maintain a friendly relationship in the future even if Scott and I leave the pack and strike out on our own.” Stiles tells Talia not a hint of a lie in his words.

“And what do you have to offer in exchange for me granting your request?” Talia asks crossing her arms.

Stiles knew she was smart. If he and Scott did leave the pack it is possible, they wouldn’t be leaving alone; but instead with a few pack mates in tow. So essentially Talia was taking a great risk in allowing them as temporary pack members, one that could divide her own pack. What Stiles was about to offer though might be a bit touchy though.

“Scott will make an excellent pack member I assure you. He is friendly and stupidly adorable. (Laura snorts back a laugh, hiding it with a cough) As for me well I have a lot more magical power then regular Emissaries so that will come in handy. Also, I can only imagine the prestige that will come with publicly announcing your pack Emissary is a Spark. Also, no spontaneous fires. Probably. (Talia smiles at this) And I can heal the Nemeton if you’ll allow me.” Stiles finishes.

Talia’s shoulders tense.

“What do you mean heal the Nemeton?” She asks flicking a dangerous look at Deaton.

“You can’t hide this from me Alpha Talia, I’m a Spark, I can feel the magic of the Nemeton pulsing through the very ground of the forest. And I know it is tainted and sickly. My guess is the branches are already turning brown and black. The Fey are concerned about the Nemeton as well, but since it is in the Preserve, they tell me they are forbidden to get close to it.” Stiles says his eyes narrowing as he watches the Alpha’s every reaction to his words.

“Tell me Mr. Stilinski are you doing this for the sake of the Fey or yourself?” Talia questions her eyes flashing red.

Stiles guesses he should feel at least a little fear in this moment, but he doesn’t instead his blood pumps faster and he feels giddy for being able to talk to someone new for the first time in so long.

“I’m doing this for the sake of everyone I love Alpha Talia, and I know you know what that’s like.” Stiles states.

Talia smiles genuinely at Stiles pleased at his answer.

“Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, as Alpha I grant you membership into the Hale pack for one year. Welcome to my family.”

***************************************

Talia calls for Krise to escort her visitors out and once she hears their steps recede in the distance, she turns to her daughter Laura.

“Is this wise mother, taking them into the Hale pack? I have no doubt that Scott will break away from us and form his own pack, _with_ some of our pack members.” Laura questions.

“Your right Laura, he will.” Talia replies.

“Then why?” Laura demands.

“Because Laura my pack has been uneasy for twelve years, and Scott McCall might be the splash of red needed to bring color back to this picture.” Talia replies, “And the boy Stiles, he’s right about the Nemeton, it is dying and Deaton and I cannot rejuvenate it. But as a Spark Stiles might be able to. And then there is the Fey. We still do not know what happened that night of The Rift. No Fey will converse with us and we cannot set foot upon their land any more than they can set foot here, which means we have learned nothing of the incident in twelve years. And have no way to repair what was done.”

“Your right, and Derek isn’t any help on it either.” Laura says sadly.

“Your brother can’t remember what happened Laura, only that he fought with a wolf in another clan for some reason and that he heard the words like the rest of us before passing out from pain.” Talia reminds her. “And besides that, he lost his mate that night as well.”

“Do you really think he found his mate?” Laura asks.

When Derek had been found and woken up, he was blabbering about his mate and wanted to know if they were safe, that he smelled their blood and was worried they were dead before passing out again. However, the next day he claimed he didn’t remember meeting his mate just smelling them. Two other werewolves from different packs had been killed that night one carcass had been found left at the border between the Beacon Hills Forest and the Preserve, its body full of scratches and bite marks. While the other was nowhere. It was common knowledge that Derek and the other wolf had fought to the death since its blood was mixed with Derek’s on its and his fur. But Derek couldn’t really remember much detail on the matter. Talia guesses her son’s muddled memory has something to do with the Fey.

Talia with Deaton’s help had tried to talk with the Fey but their efforts were in vain. Stiles joining the Hale pack means they might finally get some answers and be able to repair their relationship with the Fey. And for that Talia is more than willing to lose a few members of her pack.

“For his sake I hope he didn’t Laura, because there is a good chance the missing werewolf was his mate and the cause of all of this.” Talia replies sadly.

**Author's Note:**

> Like some of my other fan-fictions this will be a longer one and take a few years to complete. I promise hilarity, romance, and lots of Stiles goodness.


End file.
